


Slut for Gelato

by I_fucked_your_mom



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crack, M/M, also trickery, and also filled with feelings, but now it exists, if i wanted to be confused, so i would read it, this is so dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_fucked_your_mom/pseuds/I_fucked_your_mom
Summary: Christoff Giacometti woke up with a tummy ache.“Damn,” he thought. “It was probably the gelato.”(You see dear reader, Christof Giacometti is incredibly lactose intolerant, but you must also see that he is a slut for gelato.)
Kudos: 2





	Slut for Gelato

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a fit of madness at 3am. My sister and her friend then "Edited" it and made me post it. I am so sorry in advance.

Christoff Giacometti woke up with a tummy ache.

“Damn,” he thought. “It was probably the gelato.”

(You see dear reader, Christof Giacometti is incredibly lactose intolerant, but you must also see that he is a slut for gelato.)

Christoff groaned as he got out of bed, “need aspirin.” He whimpered sadly. His big fluffy cat just looked at him from its perch on the dresser.

“Hey, you cat, will you get me Advil.” The cat continued to ignore him and instead jumped off of the dresser and onto the floor.

Christoff pulled on his favorite robe and made his way to his kitchen. He glanced into his fridge looking for some breakfast. Sadly, all he could find was a few sauce bottles, milk, and cheese. Miserably, he checked the freezer hoping that there might be a frozen burrito or something, but it was bare except for…

He squinted angrily at the object of his pain. A container of Gelato. Pistachio flavored, his favorite.

He reluctantly closed his fridge, showered, and got dressed. There was obviously no food in his apartment so he would have to venture outside for breakfast.

Christoff yelled goodbye to his cat as he exited the apartment and headed to a nearby café. He was hoping to get a nice almond milk late and maybe a scone.

All seemed normal as he walked up to the counter at the café. He ordered his late and a chocolate croissant. It was while he was waiting patiently by the pick-up place when disaster struck. The barista lady slipped on a banana peel and spilled Christoff’s drink all over the pastry display. He was a caffeine addict, so he had gotten the largest size, and the pastries became thoroughly soaked. The barista was so shocked that she had to be escorted to the back by another employee.

Christoff was also very surprised by this turn of events and asked about the barista when the other employee returned.

“Oh, she’s fine,” The employee replied. “She just now has a phobia of bananas that she will probably never recover from. Shall I make you a new drink? I’m afraid none of the pastries are salvageable.”

“Huh?” Christoff was confused at the employee’s strange behavior. He was very nonchalant at the apparently life changing trauma that the barista had just experienced. But he just nodded.

As the man made Christoff’s new drink, Christoff eyed him. He was tall, blond, insanely buff and had a large bushy beard. If not for his weird comments earlier and the overgrown facial hair, he would have been Christoff’s type exactly.

When the drink was done the buff man went to hand it to Christoff, but suddenly, he tripped on another banana peel. The drink went flying and landed directly on Christoff’s shirt, showering him in hot coffee.

“AAHHH,” Christoff yelled frantically, grabbing napkins to frantically dab at his shirt with a napkin at the coffee. 

The man who had fallen slowly got up and handed Christoff a towel. “I’m sorry sir, it seems I have slipped on a banana peel. And, that was the last of our almond milk. I can make you a regular -milk- latte if you would like?”

Christoff, who was still trying to remove the hot coffee from his shirt, replied quickly, “No, thank you, I’m going to be leaving now,” and rushed back toward his apartment. The coffee on his shirt was cold and clinging to his skin by the time he made it home and Christoff himself was still just as hungry. He rushed to the bathroom to take a shower and change out of his coffee soaked clothes.

It was around lunchtime by now so Christoff decided to go to a restaurant downtown. It was about a half hour walk away and usually Christoff would drive there, but since it was a nice day outside, he decided on walking.

He was humming to himself as he walked, looking around for new restaurants and public art, when he spotted It. The place of temptation and dare I say even lust for him. The dreaded Gelato shop.

He stopped and stared at it for a moment, gazing through the front window at the delicious display of gelato flavors. He almost walked forward and into the shop but his stomach grumbled, a mixture of hunger and dairy pains, just as he attempted this, his need for lunch overrode his lust for the frozen treat, and he continued to the restaurant.

A blond, buff waiter with a curly mustache seated Christoff. “What will you be having?”

Christoff decided on a nice plate of spaghetti, no parmesan sprinkles. The lack of dairy in that should calm his tumultuous stomach. The waiter took his order to the kitchen and returned with a plate of cheesy breadsticks.

“I did not order this,” said Christoff, puzzled.

“It’s on the house,” replied the mustached waiter, and walked back towards the kitchen.

Christoff gazed at the cheesy bread. It was gooey and delicious looking, and Christoff was ready to dig in. But there was so much lactose. His stomach gurgled. So, so, much lactose. 

Christoff had just covered the plate with a napkin and decided to ignore the tantalizing appetizer. When he heard a large crash from the kitchen. This was followed by several more crashes and glass breaking noises.

The noises finally stopped when a disheveled looking chef covered in food appeared through the kitchen door. He stared out at the patrons for a moment and spoke. “It was a massacre, so many banana peels. On the floors, on the ceiling, they were everywhere! EVERYWHERE!” The chef then promptly passed out onto the floor.

The waiter that had been serving Christoff then stepped out of the kitchen and over the fallen chef. His uniform was still pristine, and he seemed to be in much better spirits than his fallen coworker. “Pardon the interruption,” He said. “There was an incident in the kitchen. Mysteriously they all tripped on a banana peel at the same time. This knocked over all the food and the only thing that has survived the ordeal is the alfredo made with fresh cream. If you have not already been served you will receive a complementary plate of alfredo.” The waiter stared straight at Christoff, “But I’m afraid if you have any dietary restrictions, you will have to look somewhere else.”

Christoff was thoroughly creeped out by this weird declaration, and he quickly left the restaurant. As he was hurrying down the street his stomach reminded him of his current dilemma. It was well past lunchtime and he still hadn’t had lunch, and he still had weird lactose hurts. Where could he get food quickly? Ahh! He spotted a McDonald’s. This didn’t really fit in with his diet as a professional figure skater, but desperate times.

He entered the McDonald’s and walked up to the counter and ordered some McNuggets.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have that sir,” said the cashier at the counter. He was tall and blond and buff, just like the restaurant and the café, but he had on large glasses and a face mask.  
“And why don’t you have any?” asked Christoff suspiciously.

“Well you see, there was an incident with some banana peels and now all of the fryers and ovens are broken.” Behind the mask Christoff saw him smile, “The only thing that still works is the Ice cream machine.”

This was too much of a coincidence. The accident this morning at the coffee shop with the suspicious looking employee, and the similar looking waiter at the incident at the restaurant, and now the broken machines at the Mcdonalds, and this cashier… THIS CASHIER.

Christoff ripped the mask and sunglasses off the cashier revealing the face of the waiter and coffee show employee, sans beard or mustache. “Why are you following me!” Cristoff yelled frantically,” And why don’t you want me to get any food?!”

The man’s eyes flashed as he started laughing low in his throat. “Who am I? I am Dio Brando. Master of this world and all of its pesky inhabitants. “

Dio? Christoff had heard of him. His grandpa had been a part of the Speed wagon foundation. He often told Christoff tales of the evil Dio Brando and of the Jojo’s that had fought valiantly to stop him. But he had always thought that these were just the ravings of a crazy old man. It seems that he was mistaken.

“And why am I following you, you ask,” continued Dio. “I was watching the Grande Prix Finals, and I saw you. You are the only person that I have ever seen that possesses an eros that rivals my own.” Dio smirked at Christoff.

Previously occupied by his stalkerish ways, Christoff only just now noticed how handsome (Thick? Sexy? Fine as hell?) Dio looked without the terrible beard or mustache, just his type.

“So, you wanted to woo me?” Christoff asked, his eyelashes fluttering, “I think that there are better ways than by ruining my meals.”

“I was testing you.” Dio stated, “ I will only allow those who are strong of mind to accompany me. I know of your little intolerance, so I used my Stand, Banana Yellow, which has the power to make banana peels appear in inopportune places, to ensure that the only foods you would have access to would be foods with lactose. I wondered how long you could go without giving into your…” He licked his lips, “temptation.”

Christoff was feeling pretty tempted right now, but whether it was to deck the attractive man in front of him or kiss him was up for debate.

“Now that you have passed my test, you are free to accompany me as long as I deem fit.”

“Why would I want to go with you, Dio?” Cris shot back defiantly, “I am already a world famous figure skater, I have everything I want.”

“You get to have me,” replied Dio, gesturing at his hot bod. Christoff was tempted. “And since you’ve passed my test, I’ll buy you some gelato.”

This final temptation caused Christoff to cave. A hot guy and he was offering to buy him gelato? He was sold.

After all, Christoff Giacometti is a slut for Gelato.

(And now Dio Brando)

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be some domestic nonsense about Chris having a hard time being lactose intolerant and struggling to balance that with his love of gelato, but as i was writing it my sister would not stop listening to JoJo's Bizzare Adventures music and practicing her Jojo poses. So this is what it became. Don't hate me I already hate myself.
> 
> (also if you did not already know, Dio is a character from Jojo's Bizzare Adventures, and i did not have it in the tags to keep the surprise. whoopsy. )


End file.
